5. The Real World
“Well, whaddya know. The kid’s got thick skin.”
The man standing 6 feet over Ash’s body gazed at his stained dagger. He kept hovering as he now focused his attention on the trembling Stan.
Stanley Miles watched his fallen friend, quaking as he lay on his side, agony and all.
Dammit, what am I doing? With all my brains why can’t I figure this out? Why can’t I MOVE. His face was pale, and Stan tried his best to pace his way backward, inch by inch. Start Thinking. Don’t lose track of his movements, and don’t trust his tricks.
“AAARGHH!!” Ash’s pain left him no choice but to cry in complete distress. The knife had penetrated from his lower back and straight through to the side of his abdomen, clutching the side of his stomach was the only thing Ash had on his mind, as well as wallowing in his own anguish. He bled slowly, tainting the grass about him.
“Ash! You hang in there buddy.” Stan trembled, and brought his foot slowly in front of him, all the while summoning his entire being to do so. Stan could feel every bone in his body quivering, the closer this man and his rapier hurried forward the tenser Stan became. This was a mistake. But I thought that… surely two proactive teenagers could apprehend a full grown man with a phony magic trick. I was wrong, this is all wrong. Stan brought his foot back and counted the milliseconds he had before he was caught.
A single stone the size of a golf ball was stumped behind Stan’s white Adidas. It was a stone that had lived for years and it was stuck beneath the feet of some giant at Bradford Park with its head towards the sky. This stone not only sat with it’s head held high, it’s adjacent body mimicked the composure of the man in front of it and at any moment would be pushed off it’s roots and thrown into the cruel community.
“I’m sorry boys, but I must end this quick, before they show up and ruin my fun.” A hidden smile behind the man’s hood crept its way out of the darkness. “You see if I don’t end this here than they’ll eliminate all of us, and that would just wreck my day.” The voice and smile was now lost behind the darkness of sown fabric.
5 feet in front of Stan’s face was the charging killer, and as he took his last step, Stan took his. What promised Stan a quick escape horribly landed him a dive face first into the fields of his demise. NO! Not yet, I still haven’t figured the trick behind it all. Who’ll show up? Who’ll wreck the day? WAIT! Stan turned first and stared at the airborne dagger held by the clocked figure. It’s over!
“It’s over! Hahahah!” The man went for the plunge, a hole through the neck would calculate: instant death. Stan hid behind his hands and flinched his entire body. This is my fault, I did this to us.
……….
Stan raised his quivering head to find his murderer brought back 20 feet away from him, his arm raised to an arrow stuck beneath his shoulder blade.
What?!
“What’s over boys? I just got here.” A teenaged man no older than Stan came from the camouflaging bushes. His voice ran with an uneven trace of a Romanian accent, his blonde curls sat beneath his ears. The sole point to his distinctive attire was his outfit. His shirt seemed as if it was painted on, a mix of steel-blue and white was coloring his upper body, with a pitch black overcoat covering his midsection. He wasn’t a large creature but he certainly wasn’t tiny. He held a bow in his left hand and carried arrows around his waist.
Stan doubled back at the clocked assassin. Thank god. This guy must be who he was talking about. Stan watched him stare at the cast-in arrow, if it wasn’t for the hood Stan could finally see this man lose his deviating smirk. Though, he showed no signs of trauma.
He began yanking at the shaft hoping for it to pop out only to have another one sore straight at his chest. The arrow was exceedingly swift; Stan did not even see the golden-haired archer reach for it.
“Sorry sir. Don’t touch the arrow.” He grimaced.
“W-Who are you?” Stanley called.
“HAH! He’s the bad guy, kid.” His hood began to float in the driving winds, revealing the man’s ugly yellow smile. He tried again at the arrow now sunk in his chest.
“You wish, loser.” His blonde curls also began to drift. “I was busy with another operation, you just happened to cross my path. Unlucky for you.” He began tightening his bow again.
Stan almost tripped his way to his broken friend when an arrow launched itself straight in front of him. “Move and you’re dead kid.” The blonde archer didn’t seem to be on anyone’s side.
“Don’t change your target in the middle of a fight boy; you’ll end up killing yourself.” The black cloak was now behind the archer and attempted a slash causing a leaping blue blur straight into the air. The archer shot 3 more down at his target. “Hahahah! You think shooting aimlessly will help you? I’m over here boy!” The black cloak was now underneath the floating archer who, at this point, was more than 20 feet in the air.
“Have another one, you cretin.” His trajectory was shifted directly beneath him and a shear slice of the arrow pinned the man and his cloak. A fancy grin lit up the archer’s face. He landed on an empty cloak; the archer weaved his head over his shoulder revealing an escaping black-haired figure yards away from him.
“Sorry boy, but I’d rather not face the lot of you today. Enjoy your catch. Hahahah!” His words faded away with him, and with a thick smoke covering his blurred appearance, he instantly vanished.
"Dammit!” Screamed the blonde archer, clenching the black cloak in his right hand. “Had this cloak not have gotten in my way...” He whipped it across the fields, it flew with the wind. His head twisted at Stanley who was now comforting his fallen friend. “Hey!” He pointed. “I told you not to move.”
“I apologize, but my friend and I were victims...” An arrow shot straight past Stan’s face grazing his cheek and leaving him speechless.
“I told you NOT to move!” His accent became thicker with those words and his eyes were a frustrated red complex, his bow was as straight as his posture. Ash’s injury was worse and was bleeding much more rapidly now.
“Who…*ughh*… Who is this jackass?” Ash’s face slowly lifted itself to the archer who had lost his prey. A noise began to breach from the inside of Ash’s pants, his phone was ringing. This caused all heads to jerk over at Ash.
“Turn it off.” Ash reached in his pants and rejected the call. “I need names from both of you. You’ll understand why later.” The archer held a tight grip on his bow, leaving no room for questions.
“I am Stanley Miles. This is my friend Ashton Dews. We both study at Abraham Lincoln high.” Stan raised both hands prompt to his answer.
“Thank you, but I need not your foundation.” The archer did not bat an eyelash to either of them. “What you’ve seen today was something an average being should never have witnessed. And that is precisely why I must do this.” He redirected his aim at Stan. “I shall reveal to you my name. In this unfair world a man without tranquility has no reason to keep living. I am Weston Valor.” Weston closed an eye and pulled back. “Please lord; be merciful to these fallen souls.” Another tune suddenly startled the inside of Weston’s jacket. Weston kept his eyes on the two frozen bodies, pulling out an odd device from the inside of his pocket.
“Valor.” Speaking to someone from higher demand must’ve been the only reason to cancel a death sentence. “You found her?” His attention was dropped from the two victims. “Don’t kill them?” Stanley gasped, We’re being watched? Where are they? Who is he speaking to?
“Yes sir, I’ll leave these two to the approaching reapers.” Weston turned the device off and lowered his bow. “Don’t feel thankful. If not by me, than by others.” He gave them a smirk and disappeared further into the trees ahead.
Stan’s relief brought him to his hands and knees. “What was that experience just now? As far as my understanding of the laws of this world reach, there were about 20 broken rules just now.”
“AAAHH!!” Ash gave his second deafening cry. He kept a heavy panting rotation and he coughed at least twice every breath.
“Ash, don’t worry about it buddy, alright? I’m gonna get you to a hospital, just hang on.” Stan grabbed the black cloak that was harshly tossed by Weston Valor and wrapped it around Ash’s large gash. “Alright Ash, we’re gonna get you standing. Don’t worry. My car’s not far.” Stan threw his arm around Ash’s left shoulder and did the same with Ash’s arm. They both walked their way to Stan’s car and Ash was placed in the back seat. From the way that guy was talking, it sounded as if there were more of them coming. It’s been 5 minutes and I haven’t seen anyone. In any case, I better take care of this problem first. He hurled himself into the driver’s seat and started up the car.
“AAHH! It feels like it’s still inside me! Every …br-breath I take.”
“Try NOT to talk Ash, it’ll get worse. Take nice and easy breaths.”
Stan remained quite until they reached the hospital. What happened today? This was not part of anything I planned, and there were much more guests than I had anticipated. They were… incredible, and they threw my plan completely out of whack… NO! It wasn't them. It was me and my abundance of vulnerability. I froze out there and watched my friend get axed. With all the wit I have, I am still so weak and pathetic. “I’m sorry Ash. This is all my fault.” Stan hauled Ash out of the backseat and they hopped their way to the hospital.
“Ha… *ughh* … I’ll give you a break for now, dude.” Ash was spilling blood from his lips. He wiped them and continued. “After all… th-this is your first slip-up, right? We-welcome …to the real world....” Ash suddenly began coughing more and more blood. Stan was doing most of the walking by the time they reached the waiting room. In came every nurse and stretcher they had to carry the pouring bucket of blood that was: ‘Ash Dews’. Stan sat in the waiting room with his head between his knees.
“Welcome to the real world, huh?” Stan closed his eyes and imagined the same fight play out through his mind. “Just… which world is that?” He threw his hands over his face and counted down from ten. The world revolves around the sun. The largest creature is the blue whale. The sky is blue not green. Humans live and they die. These are all things that make sense to me. A man cannot disappear and reappear at will. A man cannot leap 20 feet in the air with any kind of shoes. These discoveries are not real, and they must never be recorded by man.
A female receptionist came up and asked him to fill out some paper work, handing him a black-inked pen. Is she going to attack me too? Stanley adjusted his glasses and began to write Ash’s information. Nazareth Hospital was written in Bold at the top left corner of the page. Oh yea. The hospital. And Ash. That’s where I am.
The sentence from the cloaked man rehearsed through his head again. “He’s the bad guy, kid.”
If he was the bad guy, than why did he save us? All of these questions will never be solved. And this eccentric world will only get stranger. Stan’s head was aching from all the wild things he imagined, he finally shook himself back to reality, remembering the call during all of the nonsense. “Ah! Lou!” It was Ash’s phone that he called, but it was not like Lou to leave Stan out of the picture, why had he not called the both of them? “I’ll try calling him now.” Stan waited a while to hear a ring, but there was nothing. “He must’ve turned it off. Why would he do that?” Stan hopped off his chair and skipped most of his way to Ash’s room.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!” Stan stopped. He was now standing behind the gates of Ash’s horrendous nightmare. He listened to the voices of overdramatic doctors. He decided to wait.
“Re…reapers…” Stan whispered. “He called them reapers…”
..........
..........
“Dohaaaa!!” The sounds of collapsing bodies echoed through the forest of Pennypack trail, and there stood at least 7 individual voices.
“Only five of them, huh? Well I guess I can be content with that.” Another body landed in front of the black figure.
“Can you, really?” Asked the smaller and more feminine figure.
“Of course not!!” Screamed the black figure, contradictory to his previous response. “How can I be satisfied with a couple of peons with fighting skills worth shit!?” He kicked the unconscious corpses in front of him.
“Be calm Samuel. If we don’t hurry, than we’ll receive a little more than we can handle. Remember what Wing told us.” The familiar statures began racing off into the surrounding trees.
“Wing, that bastard! Why is he still ordering us around, Lily? He’s an old man for Christ’s sake!” The two bodies continued hopping trees until they reached the streets of Mayfair.
“Just do what he says for now. Remember what he told us? The two of them should be safe now, and we should get a move on or else we’ll miss it. What time do you have?”
“Noon.” Said Sam. “I’ll take him on for now. But I just can’t believe the same kid we tried to kill earlier is the same kid we’re going to rescue.”
“Try to conceal your spirit. We don’t want to run into anymore Reapers.”
“Sure.” Sam exhaled softly and continued running. “We’re coming Crowley boy. Give us a sign alright? Hahahah!”
..........
The man standing 6 feet over Ash’s body gazed at his stained dagger. He kept hovering as he now focused his attention on the trembling Stan.
Stanley Miles watched his fallen friend, quaking as he lay on his side, agony and all.
Dammit, what am I doing? With all my brains why can’t I figure this out? Why can’t I MOVE. His face was pale, and Stan tried his best to pace his way backward, inch by inch. Start Thinking. Don’t lose track of his movements, and don’t trust his tricks.
“AAARGHH!!” Ash’s pain left him no choice but to cry in complete distress. The knife had penetrated from his lower back and straight through to the side of his abdomen, clutching the side of his stomach was the only thing Ash had on his mind, as well as wallowing in his own anguish. He bled slowly, tainting the grass about him.
“Ash! You hang in there buddy.” Stan trembled, and brought his foot slowly in front of him, all the while summoning his entire being to do so. Stan could feel every bone in his body quivering, the closer this man and his rapier hurried forward the tenser Stan became. This was a mistake. But I thought that… surely two proactive teenagers could apprehend a full grown man with a phony magic trick. I was wrong, this is all wrong. Stan brought his foot back and counted the milliseconds he had before he was caught.
A single stone the size of a golf ball was stumped behind Stan’s white Adidas. It was a stone that had lived for years and it was stuck beneath the feet of some giant at Bradford Park with its head towards the sky. This stone not only sat with it’s head held high, it’s adjacent body mimicked the composure of the man in front of it and at any moment would be pushed off it’s roots and thrown into the cruel community.
“I’m sorry boys, but I must end this quick, before they show up and ruin my fun.” A hidden smile behind the man’s hood crept its way out of the darkness. “You see if I don’t end this here than they’ll eliminate all of us, and that would just wreck my day.” The voice and smile was now lost behind the darkness of sown fabric.
5 feet in front of Stan’s face was the charging killer, and as he took his last step, Stan took his. What promised Stan a quick escape horribly landed him a dive face first into the fields of his demise. NO! Not yet, I still haven’t figured the trick behind it all. Who’ll show up? Who’ll wreck the day? WAIT! Stan turned first and stared at the airborne dagger held by the clocked figure. It’s over!
“It’s over! Hahahah!” The man went for the plunge, a hole through the neck would calculate: instant death. Stan hid behind his hands and flinched his entire body. This is my fault, I did this to us.
……….
Stan raised his quivering head to find his murderer brought back 20 feet away from him, his arm raised to an arrow stuck beneath his shoulder blade.
What?!
“What’s over boys? I just got here.” A teenaged man no older than Stan came from the camouflaging bushes. His voice ran with an uneven trace of a Romanian accent, his blonde curls sat beneath his ears. The sole point to his distinctive attire was his outfit. His shirt seemed as if it was painted on, a mix of steel-blue and white was coloring his upper body, with a pitch black overcoat covering his midsection. He wasn’t a large creature but he certainly wasn’t tiny. He held a bow in his left hand and carried arrows around his waist.
Stan doubled back at the clocked assassin. Thank god. This guy must be who he was talking about. Stan watched him stare at the cast-in arrow, if it wasn’t for the hood Stan could finally see this man lose his deviating smirk. Though, he showed no signs of trauma.
He began yanking at the shaft hoping for it to pop out only to have another one sore straight at his chest. The arrow was exceedingly swift; Stan did not even see the golden-haired archer reach for it.
“Sorry sir. Don’t touch the arrow.” He grimaced.
“W-Who are you?” Stanley called.
“HAH! He’s the bad guy, kid.” His hood began to float in the driving winds, revealing the man’s ugly yellow smile. He tried again at the arrow now sunk in his chest.
“You wish, loser.” His blonde curls also began to drift. “I was busy with another operation, you just happened to cross my path. Unlucky for you.” He began tightening his bow again.
Stan almost tripped his way to his broken friend when an arrow launched itself straight in front of him. “Move and you’re dead kid.” The blonde archer didn’t seem to be on anyone’s side.
“Don’t change your target in the middle of a fight boy; you’ll end up killing yourself.” The black cloak was now behind the archer and attempted a slash causing a leaping blue blur straight into the air. The archer shot 3 more down at his target. “Hahahah! You think shooting aimlessly will help you? I’m over here boy!” The black cloak was now underneath the floating archer who, at this point, was more than 20 feet in the air.
“Have another one, you cretin.” His trajectory was shifted directly beneath him and a shear slice of the arrow pinned the man and his cloak. A fancy grin lit up the archer’s face. He landed on an empty cloak; the archer weaved his head over his shoulder revealing an escaping black-haired figure yards away from him.
“Sorry boy, but I’d rather not face the lot of you today. Enjoy your catch. Hahahah!” His words faded away with him, and with a thick smoke covering his blurred appearance, he instantly vanished.
"Dammit!” Screamed the blonde archer, clenching the black cloak in his right hand. “Had this cloak not have gotten in my way...” He whipped it across the fields, it flew with the wind. His head twisted at Stanley who was now comforting his fallen friend. “Hey!” He pointed. “I told you not to move.”
“I apologize, but my friend and I were victims...” An arrow shot straight past Stan’s face grazing his cheek and leaving him speechless.
“I told you NOT to move!” His accent became thicker with those words and his eyes were a frustrated red complex, his bow was as straight as his posture. Ash’s injury was worse and was bleeding much more rapidly now.
“Who…*ughh*… Who is this jackass?” Ash’s face slowly lifted itself to the archer who had lost his prey. A noise began to breach from the inside of Ash’s pants, his phone was ringing. This caused all heads to jerk over at Ash.
“Turn it off.” Ash reached in his pants and rejected the call. “I need names from both of you. You’ll understand why later.” The archer held a tight grip on his bow, leaving no room for questions.
“I am Stanley Miles. This is my friend Ashton Dews. We both study at Abraham Lincoln high.” Stan raised both hands prompt to his answer.
“Thank you, but I need not your foundation.” The archer did not bat an eyelash to either of them. “What you’ve seen today was something an average being should never have witnessed. And that is precisely why I must do this.” He redirected his aim at Stan. “I shall reveal to you my name. In this unfair world a man without tranquility has no reason to keep living. I am Weston Valor.” Weston closed an eye and pulled back. “Please lord; be merciful to these fallen souls.” Another tune suddenly startled the inside of Weston’s jacket. Weston kept his eyes on the two frozen bodies, pulling out an odd device from the inside of his pocket.
“Valor.” Speaking to someone from higher demand must’ve been the only reason to cancel a death sentence. “You found her?” His attention was dropped from the two victims. “Don’t kill them?” Stanley gasped, We’re being watched? Where are they? Who is he speaking to?
“Yes sir, I’ll leave these two to the approaching reapers.” Weston turned the device off and lowered his bow. “Don’t feel thankful. If not by me, than by others.” He gave them a smirk and disappeared further into the trees ahead.
Stan’s relief brought him to his hands and knees. “What was that experience just now? As far as my understanding of the laws of this world reach, there were about 20 broken rules just now.”
“AAAHH!!” Ash gave his second deafening cry. He kept a heavy panting rotation and he coughed at least twice every breath.
“Ash, don’t worry about it buddy, alright? I’m gonna get you to a hospital, just hang on.” Stan grabbed the black cloak that was harshly tossed by Weston Valor and wrapped it around Ash’s large gash. “Alright Ash, we’re gonna get you standing. Don’t worry. My car’s not far.” Stan threw his arm around Ash’s left shoulder and did the same with Ash’s arm. They both walked their way to Stan’s car and Ash was placed in the back seat. From the way that guy was talking, it sounded as if there were more of them coming. It’s been 5 minutes and I haven’t seen anyone. In any case, I better take care of this problem first. He hurled himself into the driver’s seat and started up the car.
“AAHH! It feels like it’s still inside me! Every …br-breath I take.”
“Try NOT to talk Ash, it’ll get worse. Take nice and easy breaths.”
Stan remained quite until they reached the hospital. What happened today? This was not part of anything I planned, and there were much more guests than I had anticipated. They were… incredible, and they threw my plan completely out of whack… NO! It wasn't them. It was me and my abundance of vulnerability. I froze out there and watched my friend get axed. With all the wit I have, I am still so weak and pathetic. “I’m sorry Ash. This is all my fault.” Stan hauled Ash out of the backseat and they hopped their way to the hospital.
“Ha… *ughh* … I’ll give you a break for now, dude.” Ash was spilling blood from his lips. He wiped them and continued. “After all… th-this is your first slip-up, right? We-welcome …to the real world....” Ash suddenly began coughing more and more blood. Stan was doing most of the walking by the time they reached the waiting room. In came every nurse and stretcher they had to carry the pouring bucket of blood that was: ‘Ash Dews’. Stan sat in the waiting room with his head between his knees.
“Welcome to the real world, huh?” Stan closed his eyes and imagined the same fight play out through his mind. “Just… which world is that?” He threw his hands over his face and counted down from ten. The world revolves around the sun. The largest creature is the blue whale. The sky is blue not green. Humans live and they die. These are all things that make sense to me. A man cannot disappear and reappear at will. A man cannot leap 20 feet in the air with any kind of shoes. These discoveries are not real, and they must never be recorded by man.
A female receptionist came up and asked him to fill out some paper work, handing him a black-inked pen. Is she going to attack me too? Stanley adjusted his glasses and began to write Ash’s information. Nazareth Hospital was written in Bold at the top left corner of the page. Oh yea. The hospital. And Ash. That’s where I am.
The sentence from the cloaked man rehearsed through his head again. “He’s the bad guy, kid.”
If he was the bad guy, than why did he save us? All of these questions will never be solved. And this eccentric world will only get stranger. Stan’s head was aching from all the wild things he imagined, he finally shook himself back to reality, remembering the call during all of the nonsense. “Ah! Lou!” It was Ash’s phone that he called, but it was not like Lou to leave Stan out of the picture, why had he not called the both of them? “I’ll try calling him now.” Stan waited a while to hear a ring, but there was nothing. “He must’ve turned it off. Why would he do that?” Stan hopped off his chair and skipped most of his way to Ash’s room.
“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!” Stan stopped. He was now standing behind the gates of Ash’s horrendous nightmare. He listened to the voices of overdramatic doctors. He decided to wait.
“Re…reapers…” Stan whispered. “He called them reapers…”
..........
..........
“Dohaaaa!!” The sounds of collapsing bodies echoed through the forest of Pennypack trail, and there stood at least 7 individual voices.
“Only five of them, huh? Well I guess I can be content with that.” Another body landed in front of the black figure.
“Can you, really?” Asked the smaller and more feminine figure.
“Of course not!!” Screamed the black figure, contradictory to his previous response. “How can I be satisfied with a couple of peons with fighting skills worth shit!?” He kicked the unconscious corpses in front of him.
“Be calm Samuel. If we don’t hurry, than we’ll receive a little more than we can handle. Remember what Wing told us.” The familiar statures began racing off into the surrounding trees.
“Wing, that bastard! Why is he still ordering us around, Lily? He’s an old man for Christ’s sake!” The two bodies continued hopping trees until they reached the streets of Mayfair.
“Just do what he says for now. Remember what he told us? The two of them should be safe now, and we should get a move on or else we’ll miss it. What time do you have?”
“Noon.” Said Sam. “I’ll take him on for now. But I just can’t believe the same kid we tried to kill earlier is the same kid we’re going to rescue.”
“Try to conceal your spirit. We don’t want to run into anymore Reapers.”
“Sure.” Sam exhaled softly and continued running. “We’re coming Crowley boy. Give us a sign alright? Hahahah!”
..........
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